The Taste of Cigarettes
by Dlvvanzor
Summary: Mello's last thoughts before he dies aren't of Near, or of Kira, or of chocolate. Mello/Matt oneshot.


Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.

I felt that telltale pain, like my heart turning to rock, and my left arm went numb. Fuckin older Yagami. Called out my name and Kira got a hold of it. Knew I shouldn't have given the bitch the blanket. That's what I get for being generous and caring about a lady's modesty.

But, as hard as I tried, I couldn't be upset about it. The fact that I was dying, I mean. I wasn't overly thrilled to be dying before beating Near, but even my endlessly competitive nature was overshadowed by one thing: that my frikin _heart_ had stopped beating.

Not literally, although, yes, I _was_ presently having a heart attack so my heart wasn't beating, but mostly , although I would never tell anyone besides myself and him, it was because...

Matt was dead.

So yeah, I wasn't too upset. I knew Near would eventually catch Kira, and hey, I could pretend I was a self-sacrificing guy and claim that it didn't matter who caught him, as long as someone did. I've always been a good actor.

But my mind kept going back to Matt.

Idiot. Getting himself killed. The world _needs_ someone like him. So utterly... _cool._ A really smart guy, too. Almost up to my level, but not quite. And that smile. I'm telling you, he can... could... light up a room with his smile. That smile. That beautiful...

Maybe it's right, then, that I'm dying now, only a few minutes after him. Maybe I'm not meant to be in the world if I'm not with him... alright, that sounded creepy, or at least pathetic. But...

I remember the day I met that hacker. We both grew up in Wammy House, but I never saw him and actually I didn't know he existed because he wasn't Near. Anyway, the only reason we ever crossed years and years later was because he tried to hack into something of mine, and succeeded. I'm L's heir, and this random guy effectively got all my information, including my name. He didn't realize I was M, so he didn't know how big a deal that was. But it was, so I promptly hunted him down.

I found him, naturally, and in fact I found him actually _at_ his bazillion computers. When I walked in, he just smiled at me. "Mihael. Hello."

I could only stare at him, my words completely scattered to the wind by that casual but breathtaking smile.

Things happened from there. I had never noticed a guy before. All my ex-girlfriends must be rolling their eyes, claiming to have known it from the beginning. He was gay and he knew it, so I wasn't a surprise to him. But from the moment I met him, I knew I wanted him, and I knew I always _would_ want him. As I rule, I know what I want. Always. And I always work until I get it. And I got him.

It wasn't long before we were constantly together. We eventually figured out we were both from Wammy House. (That was a funny moment- it was like two months into the whole relationship deal.) I started wearing the weird stuff I wore. I knew I looked strange (although hot) and... well... flamingly gay... but I couldn't work up a good care because I knew he liked it. And he was my world. We shared cruddy downtown apartments, him hacking and me doing whatever. We got by. And I had what I wanted, and it was the happiest time of my life, permeated by the taste of cigarettes on him.

Waking up every day to that smile in my arms, his body warm against mine, the slightly disgusting but highly distinguishable smell of sex, of love, of _life_ on his skin and on mine. Knowing he had put it there, and that I had left my scent on him, too.

I knew it would probably cost me mine, but I wonder if I would still have taken on the Kira case if I had known it would mean _his_ life. And, honestly, the answer my mind immediately spits back is 'no.' Even beating Near, an all-consuming passion in my life, is nothing compared to what Matt meant to me.

I think the proof of that is in the fact that my last thoughts aren't Kira, aren't Near, aren't my sins or like _chocolate _or something, but they _are_ about the one I love.

Matt.

Even now, as I lay dying, I can taste him on my lips. The taste that meant _him_ to me, the acid taste of cig-

END


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